When I first began working with yagé, I believed what most people believe—that these sacred plants are incorruptible, that the healers who carry them are untouched by the shadows of the world.
Ten years later, after growing, preparing, and serving this medicine, I can tell you that belief is dangerously naïve. The truth I’ve seen up close is far more complicated.
Plant medicines can open the door to the divine, but they can also open the door to manipulation, greed, and even harm. The question is: how do you tell the difference? That’s the story I want to share with you today.
I have been working with plant medicines for the last 10 years: cultivating them, preparing them, sharing them in ceremonies, and studying the indigenous cultures from which they came. In this time, I have learned a great deal about them, and today I would like to tell you a story about what I have learned.
This isn’t a piece about their beauty or their wonder, as there are plenty of things to read on that. This will be about what I would call the dark side of plant medicine, and the dark side of indigenous cultures.
If you have a sensitive heart, this might not be for you. I wish you well and will see you in a couple weeks with something a bit more light-hearted. Otherwise, continue on. What you will find is my truth, and my story.
Why Plant Medicine Captures Hearts
The first thing to understand is that there is a real beauty and mystery to plant medicine. The healing, the love, the colors—it’s all real to a certain extent. It can absolutely remove traumatic experiences from the body, working almost mechanistically to extract them.
So there is something real and profound happening here, and I don’t want to downplay that at all. I will personally continue to work with them myself and share them with people whom I consider to be in a position to benefit from them.
The cultures these plant medicines come from have also a real beauty and mystery too. The threads that they hold link back thousands of years to an era when humanity was an entirely different species. A time when we didn’t suffer as we currently do, and when we did we used the natural world and its plants to heal ourselves, rather than doctors or scientists.
So please, as you read this article, keep these truths in mind as well.
The Light That Draws the Flies
Unfortunately, this beauty and mystery surrounding these plant medicines—and the indigenous cultures that once guarded them (emphasis on past tense)—is exactly the reason why they have been corrupted. After all, a powerful light in the dark of night is what attracts the pests, isn’t it?
Let’s start with the medicines themselves. I am talking here about yagé, or ayahuasca, as it is called in other cultures. This is what I have the most experience working with, but everything I say here about ayahuasca will apply equally to most of the other plant medicines: mushrooms, peyote, san pedro, mambe, hape, etc.
These medicines are, more than anything, mysterious. One of the primary ways they work, in my experience, is by providing the individual consuming them with a direct experience of the divine. God, angels, holy spirit, love, the unconscious mind, etc. I just use the word divine to describe all that.
Keep in mind: my own personal view is that we are—all of us—divine beings having a human experience. Behind the veil of these human bodies, we are made up of the same stuff: God.
With this in mind, consider the possibilities. If you can have a direct experience—a direct connection—with the divine, what might be possible? Healing, transformation, alchemy, you name it!
And then we must combine this understanding with the very physical and scientific understanding of what these plants do. They affect the brain and the connections between neurons. They quite literally rewire the brain. This of course leaves massive potential for healing trauma, addiction, and transforming one’s life.
But we must consider the effects this has on the healer as well. The shaman. The one providing the medicine.
The Subtle Corruption of the Shaman
We hear about God complexes a lot. If you are reading this article, my guess is you might even know someone with one.
Let’s consider for a moment the healer who works with plant medicine. One who takes it with their client, performs healing work on them, witnesses the healing and transformation that took place, and then provides integration so the client might understand what happened.
Perhaps you see where the road leads. And God complexes go hand-in-hand with spiritual bypassing.
Inevitably, the “work” becomes more important than anything. The healer is doing such profound work—of such a high level of importance—that the means by which they share their work with the world are irrelevant. The work must continue!
Money, power, greed, disciples, etc. The road becomes as dark as it once was light, as rotten as it once was sweet. Healing becomes trauma, and the mind slowly twists and corrupts.
The Ancient Safeguards Against Corruption
Here is where the indigenous cultures come in. After all, how do we as healers prevent this all from happening? What is the defense against this? According to the cultures, it is actually quite simple.
Live in the jungle in a small village, be elected by the community publicly to be a healer, move to a little house on the outskirts of the village so you can grow your sacred plants, prepare the medicines yourself, and only serve that medicine to your village, or the people those villagers bring themselves to you.
Of course, there are many other things to be and remain a powerful healer capable of staying pure and clean. But, the above paragraph is the most important point.
And what do we see when we look around? Indigenous healers traveling all around the world. Facebook ads, Instagram ads, newsletters. LAST SPOT REMAINING, COME NOW! And do they grow their own plants? If you look under their nails, do you find dirt?
They fall prey to the same things we fell prey to. Why grow plants when you can pay someone else to? Why wait for the clients when you can advertise and bring them to you? Or better, why not fly to them?
What the Grandmothers Really Spoke Of
Don’t worry, I can already hear your voice. These indigenous peoples are under threat. They need vital sustenance in the way of public attention and financial resources if they are to survive.
I went to the jungle to drink with the elders of the territory. The grandmothers of the Ingano territory came. These were the women elected by the Ingano governance system to be spiritual leaders of the community, much in the same way as Taitas are publicly elected or recognized.
What they had to say shocked our entire group of seasoned veterans of the yagé family I was a part of.
They didn’t want to talk about plants. They didn’t want to talk about rituals or initiations. They didn’t want to talk about healing or chants either. They had one single message, and that was the story of their people.
The Wounds of the Inga People
They explained what happened to the Inga people.
The Inga (Ingano) were the children of the sun, keepers of maize, coca, and yagé. They were farmers, traders, and healers. They had renowned botanists and shamans who worked with sacred plants that came to the earth from the gods. (this is backstory for you, but the grandmothers got straight to the point below.)
When the Spanish came, they marched into their villages with fire and iron. Entire villages were burned, men were cut down, and the women were raped or worse. Entire lineages were broken—forever. The Inga were forced into missions and ecomiendas, having been conquered. Their sacred plants—coca, tobacco, yagé—were called the devil’s work. Speaking their language would bring a beating.
The taita’s were hidden when possible—sent into the jungle to hide in caves or the dense forest in the mountains—often returning to a village completely ravaged and murdered. They had to whisper their prayers in secret, passing the songs from father to son, mother to daughter. Yagé was cooked at night and carried in gourds across rivers, kept alive like an ember beneath the ashes.
Centuries passed. Rubber barons came, missionaries came, oil men came. Again the forests bled, and again the Inga retreated into silence, disguising their knowledge, protecting what little remained. Many were scattered, but the heart of Condagua, their sacred valley, continued to pulse.
Today, the Inga still rise. They speak their language, they plant their coca and drink their medicine. The taitas once more sit in the open, chanting over the fire. The memory of massacre and rape is not forgotten, but neither is the resilience. From the ashes of conquest, they kept the flame alive.
This is the story the grandmothers had to tell us, a group of 20 seasoned healers working under our teacher at the time. Any of our questions about ceremony, healers, or plants lead straight back to this story.
A Warning Hidden in Their Story
I think most of us got the message, but only after some time later. And some of my friends still haven’t.
The grandmother was warning us. Every question we asked her about her culture and her people led back to this story.
“Abuela, how can we as women keep ourselves healthy and strong as you have, and become powerful healers? What does your culture have to say?”
“Look at what happened to us child. We were raped and murdered nearly continuously over centuries.”
At the time it was confusing, but now I understand. These indigenous cultures are deeply traumatized, all of them. They are of course holding on to powerful threads of wisdom and intelligence that link back to a wonderfully vibrant culture from thousands of years ago—but this link is buried under generations of trauma.
We cannot as westerners walk into these indigenous cultures assuming every aspect of it is clean, pure, safe, or even worthy of carrying forward into the world. It is undeniably their story and their culture, and that has value in itself. But for historical reasons, there are things to learn from them.
This might come off as insensitive to some, and I understand that and have compassion for that. But we must as human beings start by accepting the reality that we are a part of.
If you truly value that culture and want to help them heal, then support them. Send them your financial resources freely, go there and help grow food or build houses. That is what is needed more than anything.
But, if you drink medicine with their shamans, you must absolutely know exactly what you are walking in to.
Survival Leaves Its Own Shadows
First, we must understand that the story of the Inga is a story that almost every indigenous culture shares around the world—especially in the region of the Amazon rainforest. Cultures of plant medicines or not, their stories are much the same.
These cultures are the survivors, and not all of the cultures survived. Some perished forever in the wave of fire and iron that came with the Spanish. The Inga did not, they survived.
Taking a step further, the taitas who remain are also the ones that survived. The vast majority of taitas and their bloodlines did not survive. Many were publicly executed or otherwise died in massacres. The taitas that survived were survivors.
And how does one survive? Through fire and iron, through rivers of blood running thick with the life force of your brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers? Through greed and hate and pure evil?
One survives by any means necessary.
This is as true for the Ingano taitas as it is true for all the shamans and healers of South America. This is the blood that ran thick enough to survive. Not through one wave of onslaught, but generations of it.
Lying, cheating, manipulation, rape, and murder.
Isn’t it true that most liars were first lied to? That most cheaters were cheated on themselves? And that most people who were groomed and raped were themselves groomed and raped?
Why should a healer or shaman be any different?
They are not all like this, but some are. And unfortunately, these are the ones that are spreading their wings and flying all around the world. Taking their medicine from the jungle to every part of the world.
Questions You Must Ask Before Drinking
So what does this all mean? Understand that these healer’s people are still struggling to survive. On top of the trauma these healers carry within their blood, there is the visceral reality of how difficult it is even today to sustain their people and remain healthy as a community.
It means understand what you are walking into when you, as a foreigner, walk into an ayahuasca or yagé ceremony to drink with one of these healers.
I am not saying to avoid it completely. I am not saying these people are even bad. I am giving you the same warning a grandmother gave me, and which I did not listen to until it was too late.
Know what you are walking into. Ask the questions most are afraid to ask.
- Why do you not live in the jungle?
- Why do you not grow your own plants, with your own hands in the dirt?
- How is your family, your wife and children? Where are they?
- Why do you travel so much?
- How do you protect yourself from greed and lust?
Listen to the answers, and if you aren’t satisfied then walk away. The stakes are too great to risk otherwise. Yes, drinking ayahuasca can heal your body, mind, and spirit. It can connect you with the divine and your subconscious mind. It can help you transform your life.
But so can yoga, meditation, long walks in the park, cultivating a garden, learning to sing and play music, and more. Ayahuasca is but one single path in a universe so ripe with paths that one struggles to comprehend it all.
And these other paths can offer you all the same things without the risks. If you have not yourself studied plant medicines intensely, you cannot even imagine the lengths to which the one serving them can affect the individual consuming them.
A painter will become an even better painter, and a liar will become a masterful liar. Neurons connect, brains rewire, and minds are corrupted.
Perhaps you have noticed the skill with which some liars and cheaters weave their way through the world. Now imagine you have accepted them and trusted them and taken a psychedelic substance from them.
Beyond the Title of Shaman
Above all, have great concern for the one that says ayahuasca is inherently good. That it will always heal no matter what. That it is incorruptible.
For that person has either not yet seen the truth, has seen it and denied it, or has already been corrupted.
It can be used for good, just as a hammer can build a house. But it can be used for manipulation, just as a hammer can be used as a weapon.
I say all this as a man who serves plants to others. Some have called me a shaman, a healer.
I prefer to call myself a father, a husband. A singer, a musician. A gardener, a poet.
If you drink with me, do it because you look at my life and you like what you see. Do it because you have seen my garden and you like the smell of the plants. Do it because you see where I live in the jungle, my simple life, and my gentle heart.
Do it because I am not a shaman. I am a man.
Or do not, and I will continue to serve humanity in the best way that I know how. One person at a time, one plant at a time.
Special Considerations
I want to make it clear here that this article was written by me, a man, and addresses the topic of male healers working with plants. Please understand I have not attended many ceremonies held by women and therefore I cannot speak to that.
The only thing I could say to that topic is a recommendation that if you are a woman, I would greatly encourage you to find a female healer to work with when using sacred plants like ayahuasca, yagé, mushrooms, peyote, etc.
Most of the issues that arise seem to be between men and women, and more specifically powerful male healers dominating, manipulating, grooming, and—in the most egregious cases—taking advantage of or even raping women. By not attending ceremonies held by a male healer, a woman can greatly reduce this likelihood but not remove it entirely.
Now while I suspect men are susceptible to the same things by attending ceremonies held by women, I have not observed any issues of these types myself as it relates to plant medicines. Such is the way our world is today, and therefore these types of warnings are important.
I don’t think it is necessary to completely separate the sexes for all types of plant medicine ceremonies into physically different events. But the sex of the person “running the show,” as it were, is absolutely important. Equally as important is their marital status and general quality of life and health.
I do on occasion work with female clients in my ceremonies, but only under direct supervision of my wife, or another powerful female presence whom I defer to for anything to do with the women present. I also do not position myself as anything other than “the guy pouring the cup.”
Working with psychedelics across sexes is an extremely sensitive subject and should not be taken lightly. Powerful healing can happen here, but equally powerful trauma can occur.
If you are a woman or man that has been subjected to what you feel is a traumatic experience at the hands of a healer of the opposite sex while under the effects of a plant medicine (either before, during, or after the event), I encourage you to reach out to us here at Suma Kallay, or someone else in a position of trust or respect in your life.
Seek support, and tell your story. These “healers” must be held accountable. Otherwise they will continue to pervert the healing space and perpetuate themselves through our society.
We as the users of these plant medicines must take it upon ourselves to root out this rot and corruption in our sacred space, and I truly believe that by doing so we send out ripples in space and time that will help bring about a shift in the planet as a whole.
Thanks for your time reading this friends. Many blessings my friends.
